Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)
Not Peer Reviewed
THE
Tragicall Historie of
HAMLET,
Prince of Denmarke.
By William Shakespeare.
Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as muchagaine as it was, according to the true and perfectCoppie.
AT LONDON,
Printed by I.R. for N.L. and are to be sold at his
shoppe vnder Saint Dunstons Church in
Fleetstreet. 1605.
The Tragedie of
HAMLET
Prince of Denmarke.
¶
Enter Barnardo, and Francisco, two Centinels.
¶Bar. Long liue the King,
¶Fran. Barnardo.
¶Bar. Hee.
¶Fran. For this reliefe much thanks, tis bitter cold,
¶And I am sick at hart.
¶Bar. Haue you had quiet guard?
¶Bar. Well, good night:
If you doe meete Horatio and Marcellus,
¶The riualls of my watch, bid them make hast.
¶
Enter Horatio, and Marcellus.
20Hora. Friends to this ground.
¶Mar. And Leedgemen to the Dane,
¶Fran. Giue you good night.
¶Mar. Holla, Barnardo.
¶Bar. Say, what is Horatio there?
¶Hora. A peece of him.
¶Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus,
30Hora. What, ha's this thing appeard againe to night?
¶And will not let beliefe take holde of him,
35Therefore I haue intreated him along,
¶With vs to watch the minuts of this night,
¶That if againe this apparision come,
¶He may approoue our eyes and speake to it.
40Bar. Sit downe a while,
¶What we haue two nights seene.
45And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this.
¶Had made his course t'illume that part of heauen
¶Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe
50The bell then beating one.
¶
Enter Ghost.
Mar. Peace, breake thee of, looke where it comes againe.
55Bar. Lookes a not like the King? marke it Horatio.
¶Mar. Speake to it Horatio.
60Together with that faire and warlike forme,
¶In which the Maiestie of buried Denmarke
¶Mar. It is offended.
¶Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale,
70What thinke you-ont?
¶Hora. Before my God I might not this belieue,
¶Without the sencible and true auouch
¶Of mine owne eies.
¶Mar. Is it not like the King?
¶Such was the very Armor he had on,
¶When he the ambitious Norway combated,
¶So frownd he once, when in an angry parle
80Tis strange.
¶Mar. Thus twice before, and iump at this dead houre,
¶With martiall stauke hath he gone by our watch.
¶Hora. In what perticular thought, to worke I know not,
¶So nightly toiles the subiect of the land,
90And forraine marte, for implements of warre,
¶Does not deuide the Sunday from the weeke,
¶Doth make the night ioynt labourer with the day,
95Who ist that can informe mee?
¶Hora. That can I.
¶Whose image euen but now appear'd to vs,
100Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride
¶Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet,
¶Well ratified by lawe and heraldy
105Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands
¶Against the which a moitie competent
¶Was gaged by our King, which had returne
¶Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full,
¶Hath in the skirts of Norway heere and there
¶That hath a stomacke in't, which is no other
¶As it doth well appeare vnto our state
¶But to recouer of vs by strong hand
¶So by his father lost; and this I take it,
¶Is the maine motiue of our preparations
¶The source of this our watch, and the chiefe head
¶Well may it sort that this portentous figure
¶Comes armed through our watch so like the King
.5Hora. A moth it is to trouble the mindes eye:
¶A little ere the mightiest Iulius fell
.10As starres with traines of fier, and dewes of blood
¶And euen the like precurse of feare euents
.15As harbindgers preceading still the fates
¶And prologue to the Omen comming on
¶Haue heauen and earth together demonstrated
¶Vnto our Climatures and countrymen.
125
Enter Ghost
.¶But soft, behold, loe where it comes againe
It spreads
his armes.
¶Speake to me, if there be any good thing to be done
130That may to thee doe ease, and grace to mee,
Speake to me.
¶If thou art priuie to thy countries fate
¶Which happily foreknowing may auoyd
O speake:
¶Or if thou hast vphoorded in thy life
¶Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth
¶Bar. Tis heere.
140Hor. Tis heere.
¶Mar. Tis gone.
¶To offer it the showe of violence,
¶For it is as the ayre, invulnerable,
145And our vaine blowes malicious mockery.
¶Vpon a fearefull summons; I haue heard,
¶The Cock that is the trumpet to the morne,
¶Awake the God of day, and at his warning
¶Whether in sea or fire, in earth or ayre
¶Th'extrauagant and erring spirit hies
¶To his confine, and of the truth heerein
155This present obiect made probation.
¶Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cock.
¶Wherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated
¶This bird of dawning singeth all night long,
¶No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charme
¶So hallowed, and so gratious is that time.
¶Hora. So haue I heard and doe in part belieue it,
¶Walkes ore the dewe of yon high Eastward hill
¶Breake we our watch vp and by my aduise
¶Let vs impart what we haue seene to night
¶Vnto young Hamlet, for vppon my life
¶As needfull in our loues, fitting our duty.
¶Mar. Lets doo't I pray, and I this morning knowe
Exeunt.
175
Florish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmarke, Gertrad theQueene,
¶Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death
180The memorie be greene, and that it vs befitted
¶To beare our harts in griefe, and our whole Kingdome,
¶To be contracted in one browe of woe
185Together with remembrance of our selues:
¶Haue we as twere with a defeated ioy
¶With an auspitious, and a dropping eye,
190With mirth in funerall, and with dirdge in marriage,
¶In equall scale waighing delight and dole
¶Taken to wife: nor haue we heerein bard
¶Your better wisdomes, which haue freely gone
¶With this affaire along (for all our thankes)
¶Or thinking by our late deare brothers death
¶Coleagued with this dreame of his aduantage
¶Lost by his father, with all bands of lawe
205Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting,
¶Thus much the busines is, we haue heere writ
¶Who impotent and bedred scarcely heares
210His further gate heerein, in that the leuies,
¶The lists, and full proportions are all made
¶You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand,
¶For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
215Giuing to you no further personall power
¶Of these delated articles allowe:
¶Farwell, and let your hast commend your dutie.
220King. We doubt it nothing, hartely farwell.
¶And now Laertes whats the newes with you?
¶The head is not more natiue to the hart
¶The hand more instrumentall to the mouth
¶Then is the throne of Denmarke to thy father,
230What would'st thou haue Laertes?
¶Laer. My dread Lord,
¶Your leaue and fauour to returne to Fraunce,
¶From whence, though willingly I came to Denmarke,
¶To showe my dutie in your Coronation;
¶My thoughts and wishes bend againe toward Fraunce
¶And bowe them to your gracious leaue and pardon.
¶I doe beseech you giue him leaue to goe.
¶King. Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine
¶And let thine eye looke like a friend on Denmarke,
250Doe not for euer with thy vailed lids
¶Seeke for thy noble Father in the dust,
¶Ham. I Maddam, it is common.
255Quee. If it be
¶Tis not alone my incky cloake coold mother
¶No, nor the fruitfull riuer in the eye,
¶Nor the deiected hauior of the visage
¶Together with all formes, moodes, chapes of griefe
265For they are actions that a man might play
270To giue these mourning duties to your father
¶In filliall obligation for some tearme
¶Of impious stubbornes, tis vnmanly griefe,
¶A hart vnfortified, or minde impatient
280For what we knowe must be, and is as common
¶Take it to hart, fie, tis a fault to heauen,
¶A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
¶Is death of fathers, and who still hath cryed
¶This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs
290As of a father, for let the world take note
¶You are the most imediate to our throne,
¶Doe I impart toward you for your intent
295In going back to schoole in Wittenberg,
¶And we beseech you bend you to remaine
¶Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eye,
¶I pray thee stay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg.
¶King. Why tis a louing and a faire reply,
305Be as our selfe in Denmarke, Madam come,
¶This gentle and vnforc'd accord of Hamlet
¶Sits smiling to my hart, in grace whereof,
¶No iocond health that Denmarke drinkes to day,
¶But the great Cannon to the cloudes shall tell.
¶Respeaking earthly thunder; come away.
Florish.
Exeunt all,
but Hamlet
315Or that the euerlasting had not fixt
¶How wary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable
¶Seeme to me all the vses of this world?
¶Fie on't, ah fie, tis an vnweeded garden
¶But two months dead, nay not so much, not two,
¶So excellent a King, that was to this
325That he might not beteeme the winds of heauen
¶Visite her face too roughly, heauen and earth
¶As if increase of appetite had growne
¶By what it fed on, and yet within a month,
330Let me not thinke on't; frailty thy name is woman
¶With which she followed my poore fathers bodie
¶Like Niobe all teares, why she
335Would haue mourn'd longer, married with my Vncle,
¶My fathers brother, but no more like my father
¶Then I to Hercules, within a month,
¶Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes
¶It is not, nor it cannot come to good,
¶But breake my hart, for I must hold my tongue.
¶
Enter Horatio,Marcellus, and Bernardo.
350Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you,
¶And what make you from WittenbergHoratio?
¶Marcellus.
¶Mar. My good Lord.
¶But what in faith make you from Wittenberg?
¶Nor shall you doe my eare that violence
360To make it truster of your owne report
¶But what is your affaire in Elsonoure?
¶Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart.
¶I thinke it was to my mothers wedding.
¶Hora. Indeede my Lord it followed hard vppon.
¶Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funerall bak't meates
¶Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables,
370Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen
¶Or euer I had seene that day Horatio,
¶My father, me thinkes I see my father.
¶Hora. Where my Lord?
¶Ham. In my mindes eye Horatio.
¶Ham. A was a man take him for all in all
¶I shall not looke vppon his like againe.
380Hora. My Lord the King your father.
¶Ham. The King my father?
¶With an attent eare till I may deliuer
¶Vppon the witnes of these gentlemen
385This maruile to you.
¶Ham. For Gods loue let me heare?
¶Marcellus, and Barnardo, on their watch
¶In the dead wast and middle of the night
390Beene thus incountred, a figure like your father
¶Armed at poynt, exactly Capapea
¶Appeares before them, and with solemne march,
¶Almost to gelly, with the act of feare
¶Stand dumbe and speake not to him; this to me
¶And I with them the third night kept the watch,
400Whereas they had deliuered both in time
¶Forme of the thing, each word made true and good,
¶The Apparision comes: I knewe your father,
¶These hands are not more like.
¶Ham. But where was this?
405Mar. My Lord vppon the platforme where we watch
¶Hora. My Lord I did,
¶But answere made it none, yet once me thought
¶But euen then the morning Cock crewe loude,
415Hora. As I doe liue my honor'd Lord tis true
¶And we did thinke it writ downe in our dutie
¶To let you knowe of it.
¶Ham. Indeede Sirs but this troubles me,
¶Hold you the watch to night?
420All. We doe my Lord.
¶All. Arm'd my Lord.
¶Ham. From top to toe?
¶All. My Lord from head to foote.
¶Hora. O yes my Lord, he wore his beauer vp.
¶Ham. What look't he frowningly?
¶Ham. Pale, or red?
430Hora. Nay very pale.
¶Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you?
¶Ham. I would I had beene there.
¶Hora. It would haue much a maz'd you.
¶Both. Longer, longer.
Ham. I will watch to nigh
¶Perchaunce twill walke againe.
¶Hora. I warn't it will.
¶And bid me hold my peace; I pray you all
¶If you haue hetherto conceald this sight
450Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue,
¶I will requite your loues, so farre you well:
¶Vppon the platforme twixt a leauen and twelfe
¶Ile visite you.
455Ham. Your loues, as mine to you, farwell.
¶My fathers spirit (in armes) all is not well,
¶I doubt some foule play, would the night were come,
¶Though all the earth ore-whelme them to mens eyes.
Exit.
¶
Enter Laertes, and Ophelia his Sister.
465But let me heere from you.
¶Ophe. Doe you doubt that?
¶Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauour,
¶Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood
¶A Violet in the youth of primy nature,
¶The perfume and suppliance of a minute
No more.
¶Laer. Thinke it no more.
475In thewes and bulkes, but as this temple waxes
¶Growes wide withall, perhapes he loues you now,
¶The vertue of his will, but you must feare,
¶His greatnes wayd, his will is not his owne,
¶He may not as vnualewed persons doe,
¶Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that body
¶Whereof he is the head, then if he saies he loues you,
¶As he in his particuler act and place
490May giue his saying deede, which is no further
¶Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall.
495To his vnmastred importunity.
¶And keepe you in the reare of your affection
¶"The chariest maide is prodigall inough
¶"The canker gaules the infants of the spring
¶Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd,
¶And in the morne and liquid dewe of youth
¶Youth to it selfe rebels, though non els neare.
¶As watchman to my hart, but good my brother
¶Showe me the stepe and thorny way to heauen
¶Whiles a puft, and reckles libertine
¶And reakes not his owne reed.
Enter Polonius.
515Laer. O feare me not,
¶I stay too long, but heere my father comes
¶And these fewe precepts in thy memory
¶Looke thou character, giue thy thoughts no tongue,
525Nor any vnproportion'd thought his act,
¶Be thou familier, but by no meanes vulgar,
¶But doe not dull thy palme with entertainment
530Of each new hatcht vnfledgd courage, beware
¶Of entrance to a quarrell, but being in,
¶Bear't that th'opposed may beware of thee,
¶Giue euery man thy eare, but fewe thy voyce,
¶But not exprest in fancy; rich not gaudy,
¶For the apparrell oft proclaimes the man
540Neither a borrower nor a lender boy,
¶And borrowing dulleth edge of husbandry;
¶This aboue all, to thine owne selfe be true
¶And it must followe as the night the day
¶Laer. Farwell Ophelia, and remember well
550What I haue sayd to you.
¶Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt
¶Pol. Marry well bethought
¶Tis tolde me he hath very oft of late
¶Giuen priuate time to you, and you your selfe
¶Haue of your audience beene most free and bountious,
¶And that in way of caution, I must tell you,
¶As it behooues my daughter, and your honor,
¶What is betweene you giue me vp the truth,
565Ophe. He hath my Lord of late made many tenders
¶Of his affection to me.
¶Doe you belieue his tenders as you call them?
¶That you haue tane these tenders for true pay
¶Or (not to crack the winde of the poore phrase
575Wrong it thus) you'l tender me a foole.
¶Ophe. My Lord he hath importun'd me with loue
¶In honorable fashion.
580My Lord, with almost all the holy vowes of heauen.
¶When the blood burnes, how prodigall the soule
¶Lends the tongue vowes, these blazes daughter
¶Giuing more light then heate, extinct in both
585Euen in their promise, as it is a making
¶You must not take for fire, from this time
¶Set your intreatments at a higher rate
¶Then a commaund to parle; for Lord Hamlet,
590Belieue so much in him that he is young,
¶And with a larger tider may he walke
¶Then may be giuen you: in fewe Ophelia,
¶Doe not belieue his vowes, for they are brokers
595But meere imploratotors of vnholy suites
¶Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds
¶The better to beguide: this is for all,
¶I would not in plaine tearmes from this time foorth
600As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet,
¶Looke too't I charge you, come your wayes.
¶
Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus.
605Hora. It is nipping, and an eager ayre.
¶Ham. What houre now?
¶Hora. I thinke it lackes of twelfe.
¶What does this meane my Lord?
¶And as he draines his drafts of Rennish downe,
615The kettle drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out
¶The triumph of his pledge.
¶But to my minde, though I am natiue heere
620And to the manner borne, it is a custome
¶More honourd in the breach, then the obseruance.
¶Makes vs tradust, and taxed of other nations,
¶Soyle our addition, and indeede it takes
.5From our atchieuements, though perform'd at height
¶The pith and marrow of our attribute,
¶So oft it chaunces in particuler men,
¶That for some vicious mole of nature in them
¶As in their birth wherein they are not guilty,
.10(Since nature cannot choose his origin)
¶By their ore-grow'th of some complextion
¶Oft breaking downe the pales and forts of reason,
¶Or by some habit, that too much ore-leauens
¶Being Natures liuery, or Fortunes starre,
¶His vertues els be they as pure as grace,
¶As infinite as man may vndergoe,
¶Shall in the generall censure take corruption
.20From that particuler fault: the dram of eale
¶To his owne scandle.
¶
Enter Ghost.
¶Hora. Looke my Lord it comes.
625Be thou a spirit of health, or gobl
in damn'd,
¶Bring with thee ayres from heauen, or blasts from hell,
¶Be thy intents wicked, or charitable,
¶That I will speake to thee, Ile call thee Hamlet,
630King, father, royall Dane, ô answere mee,
¶Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
¶Why thy canoniz'd bones hearsed in death
¶Haue burst their cerements? why the Sepulcher,
¶Wherein we saw thee quietly interr'd
635Hath op't his ponderous and marble iawes,
¶To cast thee vp againe? what may this meane
¶Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature
¶With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules,
¶Say why is this, wherefore, what should we doe?
Beckins.
¶Hora. It beckins you to goe away with it
¶To you alone.
¶Mar. Looke with what curteous action
¶It waues you to a more remooued ground,
¶But doe not goe with it.
650Hora. No, by no meanes.
¶Hora. Doe not my Lord.
¶I doe not set my life at a pinnes fee,
655And for my soule, what can it doe to that
¶Being a thing immortall as it selfe;
¶It waues me forth againe, Ile followe it.
¶Hora. What if it tempt you toward the flood my Lord,
¶Or to the dreadfull somnet of the cleefe
¶And draw you into madnes, thinke of it,
663.1The very place puts toyes of desperation
¶Without more motiue, into euery braine
¶And heares it rore beneath.
Goe on, Ile followe thee.
¶Ham. Hold of your hands.
¶Ham. My fate cries out
¶And makes each petty arture in this body
670As hardy as the Nemeon Lyons nerue;
¶Still am I cald, vnhand me Gentlemen
¶By heauen Ile make a ghost of him that lets me,
¶I say away, goe on, Ile followe thee.
Exit Ghost and Hamlet.
¶Mar. Lets followe, tis not fit thus to obey him.
¶Hora. Heauen will direct it.
¶
Enter Ghost, and Hamlet.
¶Ghost. Marke me.
¶Ham. I will.
¶When I to sulphrus and tormenting flames
690To what I shall vnfold.
¶Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare.
¶Ham. What?
695Doomd for a certaine tearme to walke the night,
¶And for the day confind to fast in fires,
¶Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of nature
¶Are burnt and purg'd away: but that I am forbid
¶Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood,
¶Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
¶And each particuler haire to stand an end,
705Like quils vpon the fearefull Porpentine,
¶But this eternall blazon must not be
¶If thou did'st euer thy deare father loue.
¶Ham. O God.
¶Ham. Murther.
¶As meditation, or the thoughts of loue
¶May sweepe to my reuenge.
¶Ghost. I find thee apt,
¶Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my Orchard,
725Ranckely abusde: but knowe thou noble Youth,
¶The Serpent that did sting thy fathers life
¶Now weares his Crowne.
730With witchcraft of his wits, with trayterous gifts,
¶O wicked wit, and giftes that haue the power
¶O Hamlet, what falling off was there
735From me whose loue was of that dignitie
¶That it went hand in hand, euen with the vowe
¶I made to her in marriage, and to decline
¶Vppon a wretch whose naturall gifts were poore,
¶To those of mine; but vertue as it neuer will be mooued,
¶So but though to a radiant Angle linckt,
And pray on garbage.
¶Briefe let me be; sleeping within my Orchard,
745My custome alwayes of the afternoone,
¶With iuyce of cursed Hebona in a viall,
¶And in the porches of my eares did poure
750Holds such an enmitie with blood of man,
¶The naturall gates and allies of the body,
¶And curde like eager droppings into milke,
¶All my smooth body.
¶Thus was I sleeping by a brothers hand,
760Of life, of Crowne, of Queene at once dispatcht,
¶Vnhuzled, disappointed, vnanueld,
¶No reckning made, but sent to my account
¶Withall my imperfections on my head,
765O horrible, ô horrible, most horrible.
¶If thou hast nature in thee beare it not,
¶Let not the royall bed of Denmarke be
¶A couch for luxury and damned incest.
770Tain't not thy minde, nor let thy soule contriue
¶Against thy mother ought, leaue her to heauen,
¶To prick and sting her, fare thee well at once,
¶The Gloworme shewes the matine to be neere
775And gins to pale his vneffectuall fire,
¶Adiew, adiew, adiew, remember me.
¶And shall I coupple hell, ô fie, hold, hold my hart,
780But beare me swiftly vp; remember thee,
¶In this distracted globe, remember thee,
¶Yea, from the table of my memory
¶Ile wipe away all triuiall fond records,
¶That youth and obseruation coppied there,
¶And thy commandement all alone shall liue,
¶Within the booke and volume of my braine
¶Vnmixt with baser matter, yes by heauen,
790O most pernicious woman.
¶O villaine, villaine, smiling damned villaine,
¶My tables, meet it is I set it downe
795So Vncle, there you are, now to my word,
¶It is adew, adew, remember me.
I haue sworn't.
¶
Enter Horatio, and Marcellus.
¶Hora. My Lord, my Lord.
¶Mar. Lord Hamlet.
¶Ham. So be it.
¶Mar. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord.
¶Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy come, and come.
805Hora. What newes my Lord?
¶Ham. O, wonderfull.
¶Hora. Good my Lord tell it.
¶Ham. No, you will reueale it.
¶Hora. Not I my Lord by heauen.
810Mar. Nor I my Lord.
¶But you'le be secret.
¶Booth. I by heauen.
¶Ham. There's neuer a villaine,
Dwelling in all Denmarke
815But hee's an arrant knaue.
¶To tell vs this.
¶Ham. Why right, you are in the right,
820I hold it fit that we shake hands and part,
¶Such as it is, and for my owne poore part
¶I will goe pray.
¶Yes faith hartily.
¶Hora. There's no offence my Lord.
¶Ham. Yes by Saint Patrick but there is Horatio,
830And much offence to, touching this vision heere,
¶For your desire to knowe what is betweene vs
¶Oremastret as you may, and now good friends,
835Giue me one poore request.
¶Booth. My Lord we will not.
840Hora. In faith my Lord not I.
¶Mar. Nor I my Lord in faith.
845
Ghost cries vnder the Stage.
Ghost. Sweare.
¶Come on, you heare this fellowe in the Sellerige,
¶Sweare by my sword.
¶Ghost. Sweare.
¶Come hether Gentlemen
855And lay your hands againe vpon my sword,
¶Sweare by my sword
¶Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard.
860A worthy Pioner, once more remooue good friends.
¶There are more things in heauen and earth Horatio
¶Then are dream't of in your philosophie, but come
865Heere as before, neuer so helpe you mercy,
¶As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet,
870With armes incombred thus, or this head shake,
¶As well, well, we knowe, or we could and if we would,
¶Or such ambiguous giuing out, to note)
875That you knowe ought of me, this doe sweare,
¶So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you.
¶Ghost. Sweare.
880Withall my loue I doe commend me to you,
¶And what so poore a man as Hamlet is,
¶God willing shall not lack, let vs goe in together,
¶And still your fingers on your lips I pray,
¶That euer I was borne to set it right.
¶Nay come, lets goe together.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter old Polonius, with his man or two.
¶Rey. I will my Lord.
¶Before you visite him, to make inquire
¶Of his behauiour.
895Rey. My Lord, I did intend it.
¶And how, and who, what meanes, and where they keepe,
900What companie, at what expence, and finding
¶That they doe know my sonne, come you more neerer
¶Then your perticuler demaunds will tuch it,
905As thus, I know his father, and his friends,
¶And in part him, doe you marke this Reynaldo?
¶Rey. I, very well my Lord.
¶But y'ft be he I meane, hee's very wilde,
¶As may dishonour him, take heede of that,
¶As are companions noted and most knowne
915To youth and libertie.
¶Rey. As gaming my Lord.
¶Quarrelling, drabbing, you may goe so far.
¶That he is open to incontinencie,
¶That's not my meaning, but breath his faults so quently
¶That they may seeme the taints of libertie,
925The flash and out-breake of a fierie mind,
¶A sauagenes in vnreclamed blood,
Of generall assault.
¶Rey. But my good Lord.
¶Rey. I my Lord, I would know that.
¶And I belieue it is a fetch of wit,
¶As t'were a thing a little soyld with working,
935Hauing euer seene in the prenominat crimes
940Of man and country.
¶Rey. Very good my Lord.
Where did I leaue?
¶He closes thus, I know the gentleman,
¶There was a gaming there, or tooke in's rowse,
¶There falling out at Tennis, or perchance
955Your bait of falshood take this carpe of truth,
¶And thus doe we of wisedome, and of reach,
¶By indirections find directions out,
¶So by my former lecture and aduise
960Shall you my sonne; you haue me, haue you not?
¶Rey. My Lord, I haue.
¶Pol. God buy ye, far ye well.
¶Rey. Good my Lord.
¶
Enter Ophelia.
¶Pol. Farewell. How now Ophelia, whats the matter?
¶Pol. With what i'th name of God?
¶Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd,
975No hat vpon his head, his stockins fouled,
¶Vngartred, and downe gyued to his ancle,
¶Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
¶And with a looke so pittious in purport
¶As if he had been loosed out of hell
980To speake of horrors, he comes before me.
¶Pol. Mad for thy loue?
¶Oph. My lord I doe not know,
But truly I doe feare it.
985Then goes he to the length of all his arme,
¶And with his other hand thus ore his brow,
990And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe,
¶And end his beeing; that done, he lets me goe,
¶And with his head ouer his shoulder turn'd
995Hee seem'd to find his way without his eyes,
¶For out adoores he went without theyr helps,
¶And to the last bended their light on me.
¶This is the very extacie of loue,
¶And leades the will to desperat vndertakings
¶That dooes afflict our natures: I am sorry,
¶What, haue you giuen him any hard words of late?
1005Oph. No my good Lord, but as you did commaund
¶I did repell his letters, and denied
¶Pol. That hath made him mad.
¶I am sorry, that with better heede and iudgement
1010I had not coted him, I fear'd he did but trifle
¶By heauen it is as proper to our age
¶As it is common for the younger sort
1015To lack discretion; come, goe we to the King,
¶More griefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue,
Come.
Exeunt.
¶
Florish._ Enter King and Queene, Rosencraus and
Guyldensterne.
¶Moreouer, that we much did long to see you,
¶The need we haue to vse you did prouoke
¶Sith nor th'exterior, nor the inward man
¶More then his fathers death, that thus hath put him
1030I cannot dreame of: I entreate you both
¶That beeing of so young dayes brought vp with him,
¶Some little time, so by your companies
1035To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather
¶So much as from occasion you may gleane,
1036.1Whether ought to vs vnknowne afflicts him thus,
¶That opend lyes within our remedie.
¶Quee. Good gentlemen, he hath much talkt of you,
¶And sure I am, two men there is not liuing
1040To whom he more adheres, if it will please you
¶As to expend your time with vs a while,
¶For the supply and profit of our hope,
1045As fits a Kings remembrance.
¶Might by the soueraigne power you haue of vs,
¶Put your dread pleasures more into commaund
¶Then to entreatie.
1050Guyl. But we both obey.
¶And heere giue vp our selues in the full bent,
¶To lay our seruice freely at your feete
¶To be commaunded.
¶And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
¶Pleasant and helpfull to him.
¶
Enter Polonius.
1065Are ioyfully re
turnd.
¶I hold my dutie as I hold my soule,
¶Both to my God, and to my gracious King;
1070And I doe thinke, or els this braine of mine
¶As it hath vsd to doe, that I haue found
¶The very cause of Hamlets lunacie.
¶He tells me my deere Gertrard he hath found
1080Quee. I doubt it is no other but the maine
¶His fathers death, and our hastie marriage.
¶
Enter Embassadors.
¶Say Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
¶His Nephews leuies, which to him appeard
¶To be a preparation gainst the Pollacke,
¶But better lookt into, he truly found
1090It was against your highnes, whereat greeu'd
¶Receiues rebuke from Norway, and in fine,
1095Makes vow before his Vncle neuer more
¶Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy,
1100So leuied (as before) against the Pollacke,
¶With an entreatie heerein further shone,
¶Through your dominions for this enterprise
1105As therein are set downe.
¶King. It likes vs well,
¶And at our more considered time, wee'le read,
¶Meane time, we thanke you for your well tooke labour,
¶Most welcome home.
Exeunt Embassadors.
¶My Liege and Maddam, to expostulate
1115Why day is day, night, night, and time is time,
¶Were nothing but to wast night, day, and time,
¶Therefore breuitie is the soule of wit,
¶I will be briefe, your noble sonne is mad:
1120Mad call I it, for to define true madnes,
¶What ist but to be nothing els but mad,
¶But let that goe.
1125That hee's mad tis true, tis true, tis pitty,
¶And pitty tis tis true, a foolish figure,
¶But farewell it, for I will vse no art.
¶Mad let vs graunt him then, and now remaines
¶That we find out the cause of this effect,
¶For this effect defectiue comes by cause:
¶Thus it remaines, and the remainder thus
Perpend,
¶I haue a daughter, haue while she is mine,
¶Who in her dutie and obedience, marke,
¶
To the Celestiall and my soules Idoll, the most beau-
tified Ophelia, that's an ill phrase, a vile phrase,
¶Quee. Came this from Hamlet to her?
¶
Doubt thou the starres are fire,Letter.
1145Doubt that the Sunne doth moue,¶Doubt truth to be a lyer,¶But neuer doubt I loue.
¶O deere Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers, I haue not art to recken
¶And more about hath his solicitings
1155As they fell out by time, by meanes, and place,
¶All giuen to mine eare.
¶Pol. What doe you thinke of me?
¶King. As of a man faithfull and honorable.
¶When I had seene this hote loue on the wing,
¶As I perceiu'd it (I must tell you that)
¶Before my daughter told me, what might you,
¶Or my deere Maiestie your Queene heere thinke,
1165If I had playd the Deske, or Table booke,
¶Or giuen my hart a working mute and dumbe,
¶Or lookt vppon this loue with idle sight,
¶What might you thinke? no, I went round to worke,
1170Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy star,
1175And he repell'd, a short tale to make,
¶Thence to a wath, thence into a weakenes,
¶Thence to lightnes, and by this declension,
¶Into the madnes wherein now he raues,
1180And all we mourne for.
¶King. Doe you thinke this?
¶Quee. It may be very like.
1185When it proou'd otherwise?
¶King. Not that I know.
¶If circumstances leade me, I will finde
¶Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede
1190Within the Center.
¶King. How may we try it further?
¶Heere in the Lobby.
1195Quee. So he dooes indeede.
¶Be you and I behind an Arras then,
¶Marke the encounter, if he loue her not,
¶And be not from his reason falne thereon
¶But keepe a farme and carters.
¶King. We will try it.
¶
Enter Hamlet.
¶Ile bord him presently, oh giue me leaue,
¶How dooes my good Lord Hamlet?
¶Ham. Well, God a mercy.
1210Pol. Doe you knowe me my Lord?
¶Pol. Not I my Lord.
Is to be one man pickt out of tenne thousand.
¶Pol. That's very true my Lord.
¶Pol. I haue my Lord.
¶But as your daughter may conceaue, friend looke to't.
¶and truly in my youth, I suffred much extremity for loue, very
¶neere this. Ile speake to him againe. What doe you reade my
¶Lord.
1230Ham. Words, words, words.
¶Pol. What is the matter my Lord.
¶Ham. Betweene who.
¶Pol. I meane the matter that you reade my Lord.
1235men haue gray beards, that their faces are wrinckled, their eyes
¶purging thick Amber, & plumtree gum, & that they haue a plen-
¶though I most powerfully and potentlie belieue, yet I hold it not
¶as I am: if like a Crab you could goe backward.
¶walke out of the ayre my Lord?
¶Ham. Into my graue.
¶him and my daughter. My Lord, I will take my leaue of you.
¶Ham. You cannot take from mee any thing that I will not more
¶willingly part withall: except my life, except my life, except my
1260life.
Enter Guyldersterne, and Rosencraus.
¶Pol. Fare you well my Lord.
¶Guyl. My honor'd Lord.
1270A Rosencraus, good lads how doe you both?
¶Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.
¶Guyl. Happy, in that we are not euer happy on Fortunes lap,
¶We are not the very button.
¶Ros. Neither my Lord.
¶Guyl. Faith her priuates we.
¶What newes?
¶Ham. Then is Doomes day neere, but your newes is not true;
¶Ham. Begger that I am, I am euer poore in thankes, but I thanke
1320you, and sure deare friends, my thankes are too deare a halfpeny:
¶craft enough to cullour, I know the good King and Queene haue
¶sent for you.
¶Ros. To what end my Lord?
¶obligation of our euer preserued loue; and by what more deare a
¶better proposer can charge you withall, bee euen and direct with
¶me whether you were sent for or no.
¶Ham. Nay then I haue an eye of you? if you loue me hold not of.
¶ther, I haue of late, but wherefore I knowe not, lost all my mirth,
¶ted with golden fire, why it appeareth nothing to me but a foule
¶and pestilent congregation of vapoures. What peece of worke is a
1350man, how noble in reason, how infinit in faculties, in forme and
¶gell in apprehension, how like a God: the beautie of the world; the
1355dust: man delights not me, nor women neither, though by your
¶Ros. To thinke my Lord if you delight not in man, what Lenton
¶entertainment the players shall receaue from you, we coted them
¶on the way, and hether are they comming to offer you seruice.
1375dians of the Citty.
¶tation, and profit was better both wayes.
¶Ros. I thinke their inhibition, comes by the meanes of the late
1380innouasion.
¶the Citty; are they so followed.
¶Ros. No indeede are they not.
1410
those that would make mouths at him while my father liued, giue
¶twenty, fortie, fifty, a hundred duckets a peece, for his Picture
¶in little, s'bloud there is somthing in this more then naturall, if
¶Philosophie could find it out.
A Florish.
¶Guyl. There are the players.
¶
then, th'appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremonie; let
¶mee comply with you in this garb: let me extent to the players,
¶peare like entertainment then yours? you are welcome: but my
¶Vncle-father, and Aunt-mother, are deceaued.
¶Guyl. In what my deare Lord.
¶therly, I knowe a Hauke, from a hand saw.
¶
Enter Polonius.
¶Pol. Well be with you Gentlemen.
¶old man is twice a child.
¶Ham. I will prophecy, he comes to tell me of the players, mark it,
¶Pol. My Lord I haue newes to tell you.
¶in Rome.
1440Pol. The Actors are come hether my Lord.
¶Ham. Buz, buz.
¶Pol. Vppon my honor.
¶indeuidible, or Poem vnlimited. Sceneca cannot be too heauy, nor
¶Plautus too light for the lawe of writ, and the liberty: these are the
1450only men.
¶Ham. Why one faire daughter and no more, the which he loued
¶Pol. Still on my daughter.
¶Ham. Am I not i'th right old Ieptha?
¶Ham. Nay that followes not.
¶Pol. What followes then my Lord?
¶Ham. Why as by lot God wot, and then you knowe it came to
¶showe you more, for looke where my abridgment comes.
¶
Enter thePlayers.
¶
well, welcome good friends, oh old friend, why thy face is va-
¶chopine, pray God your voyce like a peece of vncurrant gold,
¶bee not crackt within the ring: maisters you are all welcome,
¶weele ento't like friendly Fankners, fly at any thing we see,
1480
or if it was, not aboue once, for the play I remember pleasd not
¶the million, t'was cauiary to the generall, but it was as I receaued
¶matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection,
much, more handsome then fine: one speech in't I chiefely loued,
¶t'was Aeneas talke to Dido, & there about of it especially when he
¶sable Armes,
¶When he lay couched in th'omynous horse,
¶Hath now this dread and black complection smeard,
¶With heraldy more dismall head to foote,
¶Now is he totall Gules horridly trickt
1500With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sonnes,
¶That lend a tirranus and a damned light
¶To their Lords murther, rosted in wrath and fire,
¶And thus ore-cised with coagulate gore,
1505With eyes like Carbunkles, the hellish Phirrhus
¶Play. Anon he finds him,
¶Rebellious to his arme, lies where it fals,
¶Repugnant to commaund; vnequall matcht,
¶Pirrhus at Priam driues, in rage strikes wide,
¶But with the whiffe and winde of his fell sword,
1515Th'vnnerued father fals:
¶Seeming to feele this blowe, with flaming top
¶Which was declining on the milkie head
¶So as a painted tirant Pirrhus stood
¶Like a newtrall to his will and matter,
Did nothing:
¶As hush as death, anon the dreadfull thunder
¶And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall,
1530On Marses Armor forg'd for proofe eterne,
¶Now falls on Priam.
¶Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune, all you gods,
¶In generall sinod take away her power,
1535Breake all the spokes, and follies from her wheele,
¶And boule the round naue downe the hill of heauen
¶As lowe as to the fiends.
¶Pol. This is too long.
¶Ham. The mobled Queene.
¶Pol. That's good.
1545Play Runne barefoote vp and downe, threatning the flames
¶With Bison rehume, a clout vppon that head
¶Where late the Diadem stood, and for a robe,
¶About her lanck and all ore-teamed loynes,
1550A blancket in the alarme of feare caught vp,
¶But
if the gods themselues did see her then,
¶Would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen
1560Pol. Looke where he has not turnd his cullour, and has teares in's
¶eyes, prethee no more.
1565Chronicles of the time; after your death you were better haue a
¶bad Epitaph then their ill report while you liue.
¶ty. Take them in.
¶heare me old friend, can you play the murther of Gonzago?
¶Play. I my Lord.
¶downe and insert in't, could you not?
¶Play. I my Lord.
¶Ham. Very well, followe that Lord, & looke you mock him not.
¶oure.
Exeunt Pol. and Players.
¶Is it not monstrous that this player heere
¶That from her working all the visage wand,
¶A broken voyce, an his whole function suting
¶With formes to his conceit; and all for nothing,
¶For Hecuba.
¶What's Hecuba to him, or he to her,
1600That he should weepe for her? what would he doe
¶That I haue? he would drowne the stage with teares,
¶And cleaue the generall eare with horrid speech,
¶Make mad the guilty, and appale the free,
1605Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeede
¶The very faculties of eyes and eares; yet I,
¶A dull and muddy metteld raskall peake,
¶Like Iohn-a-dreames, vnpregnant of my cause,
¶And can say nothing; no not for a King,
¶A damn'd defeate was made: am I a coward,
¶Pluckes off my beard, and blowes it in my face,
¶Twekes me by the nose, giues me the lie i'th thraote
1615As deepe as to the lunges, who does me this,
¶Hah, s'wounds I should take it: for it cannot be
¶But I am pidgion liuerd, and lack gall
¶I should a fatted all the region kytes
1620With this slaues offall, bloody, baudy villaine,
¶That I the sonne of a deere murthered,
1625Prompted to my reuenge by heauen and hell,
¶Must like a whore vnpacke my hart with words,
¶About my braines; hum, I haue heard,
¶That guilty creatures sitting at a play,
1630Haue by the very cunning of the scene,
¶They haue proclaim'd their malefactions:
¶For murther, though it haue no tongue will speake
1635Play something like the murther of my father
¶Before mine Vncle, Ile obserue his lookes,
¶Ile tent him to the quicke, if a doe blench
¶May be a deale, and the deale hath power
¶Out of my weakenes, and my melancholy,
¶Abuses me to damne me; Ile haue grounds
¶More relatiue then this, the play's the thing
1645Wherein Ile catch the conscience of the King.
Exit.
¶
Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencraus, Guyl-
¶densterne, Lords.
¶King. An can you by no drift of conference
¶Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
¶With turbulent and dangerous lunacie?
1655But with a craftie madnes keepes aloofe
¶Of his true state.
¶Quee. Did he receiue you well?
1665We ore-raught on the way, of these we told him,
¶And there did seeme in him a kind of ioy
¶To heare of it: they are heere about the Court,
¶And as I thinke, they haue already order
¶This night to play before him.
¶To heare and see the matter.
¶King. With all my hart,
And it doth much content me
¶To heare him so inclin'd.
Good gentlemen giue him a further edge,
¶King. Sweet Gertrard, leaue vs two,
1680That he as t'were by accedent, may heere
¶Affront Ophelia; her father and my selfe,
¶We may of their encounter franckly iudge,
¶And gather by him as he is behau'd,
1685Ift be th'affliction of his loue or no
¶That thus he suffers for.
¶And for your part Ophelia, I doe wish
¶That your good beauties be the happy cause
¶Will bring him to his wonted way againe,
¶To both your honours.
¶Your lowlines; we are oft too blame in this,
¶Tis too much proou'd, that with deuotions visage
¶And pious action, we doe sugar ore
1700The deuill himselfe.
¶King. O tis too true,
¶The harlots cheeke beautied with plastring art,
¶Is not more ougly to the thing that helps it,
1705Then is my deede to my most painted word:
¶O heauy burthen.
¶
Enter Hamlet.
¶Pol. I heare him comming, with-draw my Lord.
¶Whether tis nobler in the minde to suffer
¶The slings and arrowes of outragious fortune,
¶To sleepe, perchance to dreame, I there's the rub,
1720For in that sleepe of death what dreames may come
¶When we haue shuffled off this mortall coyle
¶That makes calamitie of so long life:
¶For who would beare the whips and scornes of time,
¶The pangs of despiz'd loue, the lawes delay,
¶That patient merrit of th'vnworthy takes,
¶When he himselfe might his quietas make
1730With a bare bodkin; who would fardels beare,
¶To grunt and sweat vnder a wearie life,
¶But that the dread of something after death,
¶No trauiler returnes, puzzels the will,
1735And makes vs rather beare those ills we haue,
¶Then flie to others that we know not of.
¶Thus conscience dooes make cowards,
¶And thus the natiue hiew of resolution
1740And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
¶With this regard theyr currents turne awry,
¶And loose the name of action. Soft you now,
¶The faire Ophelia, Nimph in thy orizons
¶Be all my sinnes remembred.
1745Oph. Good my Lord,
¶How dooes your honour for this many a day?
¶Ham. I humbly thanke you well.
¶Oph. My Lord, I haue remembrances of yours
¶That I haue longed long to redeliuer,
1750I pray you now receiue them.
¶Ham. No, not I, I neuer gaue you ought.
¶Oph. My honor'd Lord, you know right well you did,
1755Take these againe, for to the noble mind
¶Rich gifts wax poore when giuers prooue vnkind,
¶There my Lord.
¶Oph. My Lord.
1760Ham. Are you faire?
1765Then with honestie?
¶late beautie into his likenes, this was sometime a paradox, but now the
¶time giues it proofe, I did loue you once.
¶Oph. I was the more deceiued.
¶such things, that it were better my Mother had not borne mee: I am
¶very proude, reuengefull, ambitious, with more offences at my beck,
¶then I haue thoughts to put them in, imagination to giue them shape,
¶tweene earth and heauen, wee are arrant knaues, beleeue none of vs,
¶goe thy waies to a Nunry. Where's your father?
¶Oph. At home my Lord.
That he may play the foole no where but in's owne house,
¶Farewell.
¶lumny; get thee to a Nunry, farewell. Or if thou wilt needes marry,
1795make of them: to a Nunry goe, and quickly to, farewell.
¶tonnes ignorance; goe to, Ile no more on't, it hath made me madde,
Exit.
¶Oph. O what a noble mind is heere orethrowne!
¶And I of Ladies most deiect and wretched,
1815That vnmatcht forme, and stature of blowne youth
¶Blasted with extacie, ô woe is mee
Exit.
¶
Enter King and Polonius.
¶King. Loue, his affections doe not that way tend,
1820Nor what he spake, though it lackt forme a little,
¶Ore which his melancholy sits on brood,
¶VVill be some danger; which for to preuent,
1825I haue in quick determination
¶For the demaund of our neglected tribute,
¶Haply the seas, and countries different,
¶With variable obiects, shall expell
¶Whereon his braines still beating
Puts him thus from fashion of himselfe.
¶What thinke you on't?
But yet doe I belieue the origin and comencement of his greefe,
1835Sprung from neglected loue: How now Ophelia?
¶You neede not tell vs what Lord Hamlet said,
¶We heard it all: my Lord, doe as you please,
¶But if you hold it fit, after the play,
¶Let his Queene-mother all alone intreate him
1840To show his griefe, let her be round with him,
¶Of all their conference, if she find him not,
¶To England send him: or confine him where
¶Madnes in great ones must not vnmatcht goe.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players.
1850pingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it as many of our Players do,
¶ore-dooing Termagant, it out Herods Herod, pray you auoyde it.
¶Player. I warrant your honour.
1865your tutor, sute the action to the word, the word to the action, with
¶full laugh, cannot but make the iudicious greeue, the censure of
¶thers. O there be Players that I haue seene play, and heard others
¶tures Iornimen had made men, and not made them well, they imita-
¶ted humanitie so abhominably.
¶Player. I hope we haue reform'd that indifferently with vs.
¶pittifull ambition in the foole that vses it : goe make you readie. How
1895now my Lord, will the King heare this peece of worke?
¶
Enter Polonius, Guyldensterne, & Rosencraus.
1905As ere my conuersation copt withall.
¶Hor. O my deere Lord.
¶Nay, doe not thinke I flatter,
¶For what aduancement may I hope from thee
1910To feede and clothe thee, why should the poore be flatterd?
¶No, let the candied tongue licke absurd pompe,
¶And crooke the pregnant hindges of the knee
¶Where thrift may follow fauning; doost thou heare,
¶A man that Fortunes buffets and rewards
¶That they are not a pype for Fortunes finger
¶In my harts core, I in my hart of hart
1925As I doe thee. Something too much of this,
¶There is a play to night before the King,
¶Which I haue told thee of my fathers death,
1930Euen with the very comment of thy soule
¶Obserue my Vncle, if his occulted guilt
¶And my imaginations are as foule
1935As Vulcans stithy; giue him heedfull note,
¶For I mine eyes will riuet to his face,
¶And after we will both our iudgements ioyne
¶Hor. Well my lord,
¶And scape detected, I will pay the theft.
¶
Enter Trumpets and Kettle Drummes,King, Queene,
Polonius, Ophelia
¶Get you a place.
¶Ham. Excellent yfaith,
Of the Camelions dish, I eate the ayre,
These words are not mine.
¶Ham. No, nor mine now my Lord.
You playd once i'th Vniuersitie you say,
1955Pol. That did I my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor,
¶Ham. What did you enact?
¶Brutus kild mee.
¶Be the Players readie?
¶Ham. No good mother, heere's mettle more attractiue.
1965Pol. O ho, doe you marke that.
¶Ophe. No my Lord.
1970Ham. Doe you thinke I meant country matters?
¶Oph. I thinke nothing my Lord.
¶Ham. That's a fayre thought to lye betweene maydes legs.
¶Oph. What is my Lord?
¶Ham. Nothing.
1975Oph. You are merry my Lord.
¶Ham. Who I?
¶Oph. I my Lord.
¶be merry, for looke you how cheerefully my mother lookes, and my
1980father died within's two howres.
¶Oph. Nay, tis twice two months my Lord.
¶Ham. So long, nay then let the deule weare blacke, for Ile haue a
1985then there's hope a great mans memorie may out-liue his life halfe a
¶ô, the hobby-horse is forgot.
1990
The Trumpets sounds. Dumbe show followes.
¶_Enter a King and a Queene, the Queene embracing him, and he her,he
¶takes her vp, and declines his head vpon her necke,he lyes him downe vp-
¶dole with her, the dead body is carried away, the poysner wooes the Queene
¶Oph. VVhat meanes this my Lord?
The Players cannot keepe, they'le tell all.
¶Oph. You are naught, you are naught, Ile mark the play.
¶Prologue. For vs and for our Tragedie,
¶Heere stooping to your clemencie,
¶We begge your hearing patiently.
¶Oph. Tis breefe my Lord.
¶Ham. As womans loue.
¶
Enter King and Queene.
¶King. Full thirtie times hath Phebus cart gone round
¶About the world haue times twelue thirties beene
¶Since loue our harts, and Hymen did our hands
2030Quee. So many iourneyes may the Sunne and Moone
¶Make vs againe count ore ere loue be doone,
¶So farre from cheere, and from our former state,
2035.1For women feare too much, euen as they loue,
¶And womens feare and loue hold quantitie,
¶Eyther none, in neither ought, or in extremitie,
¶Now what my Lord is proofe hath made you know,
¶And as my loue is ciz'd, my feare is so,
2039.1Where loue is great, the litlest doubts are feare,
¶Where little feares grow great, great loue growes there.
¶My operant powers their functions leaue to do,
¶And thou shalt liue in this faire world behind,
¶Honord, belou'd, and haply one as kind,
Ham. That's
wormwood
2055But what we doe determine, oft we breake,
¶Of violent birth, but poore validitie,
¶Which now the fruite vnripe sticks on the tree,
¶But fall vnshaken when they mellow bee.
¶The violence of eyther, griefe, or ioy,
¶Greefe ioy, ioy griefes, on slender accedent,
¶This world is not for aye, nor tis not strange,
¶That euen our loues should with our fortunes change:
2070For tis a question left vs yet to proue,
¶Whether loue lead fortune, or els fortune loue.
¶The great man downe, you marke his fauourite flyes,
¶The poore aduaunc'd, makes friends of enemies,
¶And hetherto doth loue on fortune tend,
2075For who not needes, shall neuer lacke a friend,
¶And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
¶But orderly to end where I begunne,
¶Our wills and fates doe so contrary runne,
¶Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne,
¶But die thy thoughts when thy first Lord is dead.
¶Quee. Nor earth to me giue foode, nor heauen light,
2085Sport and repose lock from me day and night,
¶Each opposite that blancks the face of ioy,
¶Meete what I would haue well, and it destroy,
Ham. If she should
breake it now.
¶ If once I be a widdow, euer I be a wife.
¶My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguile
¶The tedious day with sleepe.
2095Quee. Sleepe rock thy braine,
¶And neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine.
Exeunt.
¶Ham. Madam, how like you this play?
2100King. Haue you heard the argument? is there no offence in't?
¶King. What doe you call the play?
¶of a murther doone in Vienna, Gonzago is the Dukes name, his wife
2110let the gauled Iade winch, our withers are vnwrong. This is one Lu-
¶cianus, Nephew to the King.
¶
Enter Lucianus.
¶Oph. You are as good as a Chorus my Lord.
¶Ham. I could interpret betweene you and your loue
2115If I could see the puppets dallying.
¶Oph. You are keene my lord, you are keene.
¶thy damnable faces and begin, come, the croking Rauen doth bellow
¶for reuenge.
¶Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugges fit, and time agreeing,
¶Thou mixture ranck, of midnight weedes collected,
¶VVith Hecats ban thrice blasted, thrice inuected,
¶Thy naturall magicke, and dire property,
¶anon how the murtherer gets the loue of Gonzagoes wife.
¶Quee. How fares my Lord?
¶Pol. Giue ore the play.
¶The Hart vngauled play,
¶Thus runnes the world away.
Would not this sir & a forrest of fea-
¶thers, if the rest of my fortunes turne Turk with me, with prouinciall
¶Ham. A whole one I.
¶For thou doost know oh Damon deere
¶This Realme dismantled was
Of Ioue himselfe, and now raignes heere
¶A very very paiock.
¶Hora. You might haue rym'd.
¶pound. Did'st perceiue?
2160Hora. Very well my Lord.
¶Hor. I did very well note him.
2165For if the King like not the Comedie,
¶Why then belike he likes it not perdy.
¶
Enter Rosencraus and Guyldensterne.
¶Guyl. No my Lord, with choller,
¶this to the Doctor, for, for mee to put him to his purgation, would
¶perhaps plunge him into more choller.
¶hath sent me to you.
¶Ham. You are welcome.
¶mothers commaundement, if not, your pardon and my returne, shall
¶be the end of busines.
2190Ham. Sir I cannot.
¶Ros. What my Lord.
¶mother, therefore no more, but to the matter, my mother you say.
¶mazement and admiration.
¶no sequell at the heeles of this mothers admiration, impart.
¶further trade with vs?
2205Ros. My Lord, you once did loue me.
¶ly barre the doore vpon your owne liberty if you deny your griefes to
¶your friend.
2210Ham. Sir I lacke aduauncement.
2215
Enter the Players with Recorders.
¶doe you goe about to recouer the wind of mee, as if you would driue
¶me into a toyle?
¶Guyl. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my loue is too vnmanerly.
¶Guyl. My lord I cannot.
¶Ham. I pray you.
2225Guyl. Beleeue me I cannot.
¶Guyl. I know no touch of it my Lord.
¶haue not the skill.
¶Ham. Why looke you now how vnwoorthy a thing you make of
¶cellent voyce in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak, s'bloud
¶strument you wil, though you fret me not, you cannot play vpon me.
¶
Enter Polonius.
2250Ham. Mee thinks it is like a Wezell.
¶Pol. It is backt like a Wezell.
¶Ham. Or like a Whale.
¶Pol. Very like a Whale.
¶Then I will come to my mother by and by,
2255They foole me to the top of my bent, I will come by & by,
¶Leaue me friends.
¶Tis now the very witching time of night,
2260When Churchyards yawne, and hell it selfe breakes out
¶Contagion to this world: now could I drinke hote blood,
¶Would quake to looke on: soft, now to my mother,
¶O hart loose not thy nature, let not euer
¶Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall,
¶My tongue and soule in this be hypocrites,
Exit.
¶
Enter King, Rosencraus, and Guyldensterne.
¶To let his madnes range, therefore prepare you,
2275And he to England shall along with you,
¶The termes of our estate may not endure
¶Hazerd so neer's as doth hourely grow
¶Out of his browes.
2280Most holy and religious feare it is
¶That liue and feede vpon your Maiestie.
2285With all the strength and armour of the mind
¶To keepe it selfe from noyance, but much more
¶Dies not alone; but like a gulfe doth draw
¶Are morteist and adioynd, which when it falls,
2295Attends the boystrous raine, neuer alone
¶Did the King sigh, but a generall grone.
¶For we will fetters put about this feare
¶Which now goes too free-footed.
¶
Enter Polonius.
¶Behind the Arras I'le conuay my selfe
¶Tis meete that some more audience then a mother,
¶Since nature makes them parciall, should ore-heare
¶The speech of vantage; farre you well my Leige,
¶I'le call vpon you ere you goe to bed.
2310And tell you what I knowe.
Exit.
¶King. Thankes deere my Lord.
¶O my offence is ranck, it smels to heauen,
¶A brothers murther, pray can I not,
2315Though inclination be as sharp as will,
¶And both neglect, what if this cursed hand
2320Were thicker then it selfe with brothers blood,
¶Is there not raine enough in the sweete Heauens
¶But to confront the visage of offence?
¶And what's in prayer but this two fold force,
2325To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
¶Or pardon being downe, then I'le looke vp.
¶My fault is past, but oh what forme of prayer
¶Can serue my turne, forgiue me my foule murther,
2330Of those effects for which I did the murther;
¶My Crowne, mine owne ambition, and my Queene;
¶May one be pardond and retaine th'offence?
¶In the corrupted currents of this world,
¶Buyes out the lawe, but tis not so aboue,
¶There is no shufling, there the action lies
¶In his true nature, and we our selues compeld
¶Euen to the teeth and forhead of our faults
2340To giue in euidence, what then, what rests,
¶Try what repentance can, what can it not,
¶Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
¶All may be well.
¶
Enter Hamlet.
2350Ham. Now might I doe it, but now a is a praying,
¶And now Ile doo't, and so a goes to heauen,
¶A villaine kills my father, and for that,
2355To heauen.
Why, this is base and silly, not reuendge,
¶A tooke my father grosly full of bread,
¶Withall his crimes braod blowne, as flush as May,
2360Tis heauy with him: and am I then reuendged
¶To take him in the purging of his soule,
No.
¶Vp sword, and knowe thou a more horrid hent,
¶When he is drunke, a sleepe, or in his rage,
¶Then trip him that his heels may kick at heauen,
¶And that his soule may be as damnd and black
2370As hell whereto it goes; my mother staies,
Exit.
¶King. My words fly vp, my thoughts remaine belowe
¶Words without thoughts neuer to heauen goe.
Exit.
¶
Enter Gertrard and Polonius.
¶Tell him his prancks haue beene too braod to beare with,
¶Much heate and him, Ile silence me euen heere,
2380Pray you be round.
¶
Enter Hamlet.
¶Ger. Ile wait you, feare me not,
¶With-drawe, I heare him comming.
2385Ham. Now mother, what's the matter?
¶Ham. Mother, you haue my father much offended.
2390Ger. Why how now Hamlet?
¶Ham. What's the matter now?
¶Ger. Haue you forgot me?
¶You are the Queene, your husbands brothers wife,
2395And would it were not so, you are my mother.
¶Ger. What wilt thou doe, thou wilt not murther me,
¶Helpe how.
¶Pol. What how helpe.
¶Ham. How now, a Rat, dead for a Duckat, dead.
¶Ham, Nay I knowe not, is it the King?
2410As kill a King, and marry with his brother.
¶Ger. As kill a King.
¶Ham. I Lady, it was my word.
¶Thou wretched, rash, intruding foole farwell,
¶I tooke thee for thy better, take thy fortune,
¶Leaue wringing of your hands, peace sit you downe,
¶If it be made of penitrable stu{
ff}e,
¶Ham. Such an act
2425Cals vertue hippocrit, takes of the Rose
¶From the faire forhead of an innocent loue,
¶As from the body of contraction plucks
¶A rapsedy of words; heauens face dooes glowe
¶Is thought sick at the act
2435Quee. Ay me, what act?
Ham. That roares so low'd, and thunders in the Index,
¶Looke heere vpon this Picture, and on this,
¶The counterfeit presentment of two brothers,
¶See what a grace was seated on this browe,
2440Hiperions curles, the front of Ioue himselfe,
¶An eye like Mars, to threaten and command,
¶A station like the herald Mercury,
¶A combination, and a forme indeede,
¶This was your husband, looke you now what followes,
¶Heere is your husband like a mildewed eare,
2450Could you on this faire mountaine leaue to feede,
¶And batten on this Moore; ha, haue you eyes?
¶You cannot call it loue, for at your age
¶The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,
¶And waits vppon the iudgement, and what iudgement
¶That thus hath cosund you at hodman blind;
2456.1Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
¶Rebellious hell,
¶If thou canst mutine in a Matrons bones,
¶To flaming youth let vertue be as wax
2460And melt in her owne fire, proclaime no shame
¶When the compulsiue ardure giues the charge,
¶And reason pardons will.
¶As will leaue there their tin'ct.
¶Ham. Nay but to liue
2470Stewed in corruption, honying, and making loue
¶These words like daggers enter in my eares,
¶No more sweete Hamlet.
2475Ham. A murtherer and a villaine,
¶A slaue that is not twentith part the kyth
¶Of your precedent Lord, a vice of Kings,
¶A cut-purse of the Empire and the rule,
2480And put it in his pocket.
¶Ger. No more.
¶
Enter Ghost.
¶Saue me and houer ore me with your wings
2485You heauenly gards: what would your gracious figure?
¶Ger. Alas hee's mad.
¶Th'important acting of your dread command, ô say.
¶But looke, amazement on thy mother sits,
2495Speake to her Hamlet.
¶Ham. How is it with you Lady?
¶That you doe bend your eye on vacancie,
2500Foorth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,
¶Your bedded haire like life in excrements
¶Vpon the heat and flame of thy distemper
2505Sprinckle coole patience, whereon doe you looke?
¶Ham. On him, on him, looke you how pale he glares,
¶Would make them capable, doe not looke vpon me,
¶Least with this pittious action you conuert
2510My stearne effects, then what I haue to doe
¶Will want true cullour, teares perchance for blood.
2515Ham. Nor did you nothing heare?
¶My father in his habit as he liued,
¶Looke where he goes, euen now out at the portall.
Exit Ghost.
2520Ger. This is the very coynage of your braine,
2525That I haue vttred, bring me to the test,
¶Would gambole from, mother for loue of grace,
¶Lay not that flattering vnction to your soule
2530It will but skin and filme the vlcerous place
¶Whiles ranck corruption mining all within
¶Repent what's past, auoyd what is to come,
2535To make them rancker, forgiue me this my vertue,
¶Yea curbe and wooe for leaue to doe him good.
¶And leaue the purer with the other halfe,
¶Good night, but goe not to my Vncles bed,
¶Of habits deuill, is angell yet in this
¶That to the vse of actions faire and good,
¶He likewise giues a frock or Liuery
.5That aptly is put on to refraine night,
¶And either the deuill, or throwe him out
With wonderous potency: once more good night,
2550To punish me with this, and this with me,
¶The death I gaue him; so againe good night
¶I must be cruell only to be kinde,
2555This bad beginnes, and worse remaines behind.
2555.1One word more good Lady.
¶Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you doe,
¶Let the blowt King temp't you againe to bed,
¶Pinch wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse,
¶Or padling in your necke with his damn'd fingers.
¶Make you to rouell all this matter out
¶But mad in craft, t'were good you let him knowe,
¶Would from a paddack, from a bat, a gib,
¶Such deare concernings hide, who would doe so,
2570Let the birds fly, and like the famous Ape,
¶And breake your owne necke downe.
¶And breath of life, I haue no life to breath
¶Ger. Alack I had forgot.
Tis so concluded on.
¶Whom I will trust as I will Adders fang'd,
¶And marshall me to knauery: let it worke,
.5For tis the sport to haue the enginer
¶But I will delue one yard belowe their mines,
¶When in one line two crafts directly meete,
¶Ile lugge the guts into the neighbour roome;
2580Mother good night indeed, this Counsayler
¶Come sir, to draw toward an end with you.
¶Good night mother.
Exit.
¶
Eenter King,and Queene, with Rosencraus
2586.1and Guyldensterne.
2590Where is your sonne?
¶Ah mine owne Lord, what haue I seene to night?
¶King. What Gertrard, how dooes Hamlet?
¶Whyps out his Rapier, cryes a Rat, a Rat,
¶The vnseene good old man.
¶King. O heauy deede!
2600It had beene so with vs had wee been there,
¶His libertie is full of threates to all,
¶To you your selfe, to vs, to euery one,
¶It will be layd to vs, whose prouidence
¶This mad young man; but so much was our loue,
¶To keepe it from divulging, let it feede
2610Euen on the pith of life: where is he gone?
¶Ger. To draw apart the body he hath kild,
¶Ore whom, his very madnes like some ore
¶Among a minerall of mettals base,
¶Showes it selfe pure, a weepes for what is done.
2615King. O Gertrard, come away,
¶But we will ship him hence, and this vile deede
¶Friends both, goe ioyne you with some further ayde,
¶Hamlet in madnes hath Polonius slaine,
¶And from his mothers closet hath he dreg'd him,
2625Into the Chappell; I pray you hast in this,
¶And let them know both what we meane to doe
¶And whats vntimely doone,
¶As leuell as the Cannon to his blanck,
Exeunt.
2630
Enter Hamlet,Rosencraus, and others.
¶O heere they come.
2635Ros. What haue you doone my Lord with the dead body?
¶Ros. Tell vs where tis that we may take it thence,
¶_And beare it to the Chappell.
¶Ham. Doe not beleeue it.
2640Ros. Beleeue what.
¶the sonne of a King.
¶keepes them like an apple in the corner of his iaw, first mouth'd to be
2655to the King.
¶Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not with the
¶body. The King is a thing.
¶Guyl. A thing my Lord.
¶
Enter King, and two or three.
¶How dangerous is it that this man goes loose,
2665Hee's lou'd of the distracted multitude,
¶VVho like not in their iudgement, but theyr eyes,
¶But neuer the offence: to beare all smooth and euen,
¶By desperat applyance are relieu'd
¶Or not at all.
Enter Rosencraus and all the rest.
¶King. How now, what hath befalne?
2675_VVe cannot get from him.
¶King. But where is hee?
¶King. Bring him before vs.
¶King. Now Hamlet, where's Polonius?
¶cation of politique wormes are een at him: your worme is your onely
¶Emperour for dyet, we fat all creatures els to fat vs, and wee fat our
2690.1King. Alas, alas.
¶eate of the fish that hath fedde of that worme.
¶through the guts of a begger.
¶King. Where is Polonius?
¶stayres into the Lobby.
¶Which we do tender, as we deerely grieue
¶Therefore prepare thy selfe,
2705The Barck is ready, and the wind at helpe,
¶For England.
¶Ham. For England.
¶King. I Hamlet.
2710Ham. Good.
¶Farewell deere Mother.
¶King. Thy louing Father Hamlet.
2715Ham. My mother, Father and Mother is man and wife,
Come for England.
Exit.
¶King. Follow him at foote,
¶Tempt him with speede abord,
2720Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.
¶Away, for euery thing is seald and done
¶That els leanes on th'affayre, pray you make hast,
¶And England, if my loue thou hold'st at ought,
¶As my great power thereof may giue thee sence,
2725Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red,
¶By Letters congruing to that effect
2730The present death of Hamlet, doe it England,
¶For like the Hectique in my blood he rages,
¶And thou must cure me; till I know tis done,
¶How ere my haps, my ioyes will nere begin.
Exit.
¶
Enter Fortinbrasse with his Army ouer the stage.
¶Craues the conueyance of a promisd march
¶Ouer his kingdome, you know the randeuous,
¶If that his Maiestie would ought with vs,
¶And let him know so.
¶Cap. I will doo't my Lord.
2743.1
Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, &c.
¶Or for some frontire?
¶We goe to gaine a little patch of ground
¶That hath in it no profit but the name
¶To pay fiue duckets, fiue I would not farme it;
¶Nor will it yeeld to Norway or the Pole
¶Ham. Why then the Pollacke neuer will defend it.
.20This is th'Impostume of much wealth and peace,
¶Why the man dies. I humbly thanke you sir.
¶And spur my dull reuenge. What is a man
¶If his chiefe good and market of his time
¶Looking before and after, gaue vs not
¶That capabilitie and god-like reason
.35Of thinking too precisely on th'euent,
¶A thought which quarterd hath but one part wisedom,
¶And euer three parts coward, I doe not know
¶Why yet I liue to say this thing's to doe,
¶Led by a delicate and tender Prince,
¶Makes mouthes at the invisible euent,
¶To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
¶Euen for an Egge-shell. Rightly to be great,
¶Is not to stirre without great argument,
¶But greatly to find quarrell in a straw
¶That haue a father kild, a mother staind,
¶Excytements of my reason, and my blood,
¶The iminent death of twenty thousand men,
.55That for a fantasie and tricke of fame
¶Goe to their graues like beds, fight for a plot
¶Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
¶Which is not tombe enough and continent
¶To hide the slaine, ô from this time forth,
.60My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.
Exit.
¶
Enter Horatio, Gertrard,and a Gentleman.
¶Gent. Shee is importunat,
Indeede distract, her moode will needes be pittied.
2750There's tricks i'th world, and hems, and beates her hart,
ing,
¶The hearers to collection, they yawne at it,
2755And botch the words vp fit to theyr owne thoughts,
¶Which as her wincks, and nods, and gestures yeeld them,
¶Indeede would make one thinke there might be thought
¶Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily.
2760Dangerous coniectures in ill breeding mindes,
¶Let her come in.
¶
Enter Ophelia.
¶Oph. Say you, nay pray you marke,
¶
He is dead & gone Lady, he is dead and gone,Song.
2774.1O ho.
¶Quee. Nay but Ophelia.
2775
Enter King.
¶Quee. Alas looke heere my Lord.
¶Which beweept to the ground did not goSong.¶With true loue showers.
¶King. How doe you pretty Lady?
2785ter, Lord we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
¶God be at your table.
¶King. Conceit vpon her Father.
¶what it meanes, say you this.
2790
To morrow is S. Valentines day,Song.
All in the morning betime,¶And I a mayde at your windowTo be your Valentine.¶Let in the maide, that out a maide, neuer departed more.
¶King. Pretty Ophelia.
2795Oph. Indeede without an oath Ile make an end on't,
¶
By gis and by Saint Charitie,
¶Young men will doo't if they come too't,¶_by Cock they are too blame.
¶but weepe to thinke they would lay him i'th cold ground, my brother
¶my Coach, God night Ladies, god night.
¶Sweet Ladyes god night, god night.
¶death, and now behold, ô Gertrard, Gertrard,
¶Of his owne iust remoue, the people muddied
2820For good Polonius death: and we haue done but greenly
¶In hugger mugger to inter him: poore Ophelia
¶Deuided from herselfe, and her faire iudgement,
¶VVithout the which we are pictures, or meere beasts,
2825Her brother is in secret come from Fraunce,
¶Feeds on this wonder, keepes himselfe in clowdes,
¶And wants not buzzers to infect his eare
¶In eare and eare: ô my deare Gertrard, this
¶Like to a murdring peece in many places
¶Giues me superfluous death.
A noise within.
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶What is the matter?
¶The Ocean ouer-peering of his list
2840Eates not the flats with more impitious hast
¶Then young Laertes in a riotous head
¶Ore-beares your Officers: the rabble call him Lord,
¶And as the world were now but to beginne,
¶Antiquity forgot, custome not knowne,
2845The ratifiers and props of euery word,
¶Caps, hands, and tongues applau'd it to the clouds,
¶Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.
¶
Enter Laertes with others.
¶King. The doores are broke.
¶All. No lets come in.
2855Laer. I pray you giue me leaue.
¶All. VVe will, we will.
¶Laer. I thanke you, keepe the doore, ô thou vile King,
¶Giue me my father.
¶Quee. Calmely good Laertes.
¶Cries cuckold to my father, brands the Harlot
¶Of my true mother.
¶That thy rebellion lookes so gyant like?
¶Let him goe Gertrard, doe not feare our person,
¶There's such diuinitie doth hedge a King,
¶That treason can but peepe to what it would,
2870Act's little of his will, tell me Laertes
¶Why thou art thus incenst, let him goe Gertrard.
¶Speake man.
¶Laer. Where is my father?
¶King. Dead.
2875Quee. But not by him.
¶King. Let him demaund his fill.
¶Laer. How came he dead, I'le not be iugled with,
¶To hell allegiance, vowes to the blackest deuill,
2880I dare damnation, to this poynt I stand,
¶That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
¶Let come what comes, onely I'le be reueng'd
¶Most throughly for my father.
2885Laer. My will, not all the worlds:
¶They shall goe farre with little.
2890Of your deere Father, i'st writ in your reuenge,
¶Winner and looser.
¶Laer. None but his enemies,
¶King. Will you know them then?
2895Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'le ope my armes,
¶And like the kind life-rendring Pelican,
¶Repast them with my blood.
¶Like a good child, and a true Gentleman.
¶It shall as leuell to your iudgement peare
¶As day dooes to your eye.
A noyse within.
2905
Enter Ophelia
¶Laer. Let her come in.
¶How now, what noyse is that?
¶Burne out the sence and vertue of mine eye,
¶By heauen thy madnes shall be payd with weight
¶Should be as mortall as a poore mans life.
¶And in his graue rain'd many a teare,
2920Fare you well my Doue.
¶It could not mooue thus.
And you call him a downe a. O how the wheele becomes it,
¶Laer. This nothing's more then matter.
¶member, and there is Pancies, thats for thoughts.
2930Laer. A document in madnes, thoughts and remembrance fitted.
¶Ophe. There's Fennill for you, and Colembines, there's Rewe for
¶you, & heere's some for me, we may call it herbe of Grace a Sondaies,
¶you may weare your Rewe with a difference, there's a Dasie, I would
2935giue you some Violets, but they witherd all when my Father dyed,
¶they say a made a good end.
¶For bonny sweet Robin is all my ioy.
2940She turnes to fauour and to prettines.
¶And wil a not come againe,¶No, no, he is dead, goe to thy death bed,¶He neuer will come againe.2945His beard was as white as snow,¶Flaxen was his pole,¶He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone,¶God a mercy on his soule,
and of all Christians soules,
2950God buy you.
¶Laer. Doe you this ô God.
¶Or you deny me right, goe but apart,
2955And they shall heare and iudge twixt you and me,
¶If by direct, or by colaturall hand
¶They find vs toucht, we will our kingdome giue,
¶Our crowne, our life, and all that we call ours
2960Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
¶To giue it due content.
¶His meanes of death, his obscure funerall,
2965No trophe sword, nor hatchment ore his bones,
¶No noble right, nor formall ostentation,
¶Cry to be heard as twere from heauen to earth,
2970And where th'offence is, let the great axe fall.
¶I pray you goe with me.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Horatio and others.
2975Hor. Let them come in.
¶I doe not know from what part of the world
¶I should be greeted. If not from Lord Hamlet.
Enter Saylers.
¶ratio, as I am let to know it is.
¶lowes some meanes to the King, they haue Letters for him: Ere wee
¶were two daies old at Sea, a Pyrat of very warlike appointment gaue
2990valour, and in the grapple I boorded them, on the instant they got
¶with me like thieues of mercie, but they knew what they did, I am to
¶doe a turne for them, let the King haue the Letters I haue sent, and
¶I haue wordes to speake in thine eare will make thee dumbe, yet are
¶they much too light for the bord of the matter, these good fellowes
¶course for England, of them I haue much to tell thee, farewell.
¶
So that thou knowest thine Hamlet.
¶And doo't the speedier that you may direct me
3005To him from whom you brought them.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter King and Laertes.
¶And you must put me in your hart for friend,
¶Sith you haue heard and with a knowing eare,
3010That he which hath your noble father slaine
¶Pursued my life.
¶Laer. It well appeares: but tell mee
¶So criminall and so capitall in nature,
¶You mainely were stirr'd vp.
¶But yet to mee tha'r strong, the Queene his mother
¶My vertue or my plague, be it eyther which,
¶I could not but by her, the other motiue,
3025Why to a publique count I might not goe,
¶Is the great loue the generall gender beare him,
¶Who dipping all his faults in theyr affection,
¶Conuert his Giues to graces, so that my arrowes
¶Would haue reuerted to my bowe againe,
¶But not where I haue aym'd them.
¶Stood challenger on mount of all the age
¶For her perfections, but my reuenge will come.
¶That we can let our beard be shooke with danger,
¶I loued your father, and we loue our selfe,
¶And that I hope will teach you to imagine.
3045
Enter a Messenger with Letters.
¶King. From Hamlet, who brought them?
¶They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiued them
3051.1Of him that brought them.
¶returne.
¶Laer. Know you the hand?
¶King. Tis Hamlets caracter. Naked,
And in a postscript heere he sayes alone,
¶Can you deuise me?
3065It warmes the very sicknes in my hart
¶That I liue and tell him to his teeth
¶Thus didst thou.
As how should it be so, how otherwise,
¶Will you be rul'd by me?
¶King. To thine owne peace, if he be now returned
¶As the King at his voyage, and that he meanes
¶No more to vndertake it, I will worke him
¶To an exployt, now ripe in my deuise,
¶And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,
¶And call it accedent.
3078.1Laer. My Lord I will be rul'd,
¶That I might be the organ.
¶King. It falls right,
.5You haue beene talkt of since your trauaile much,
¶And that in Hamlets hearing, for a qualitie
¶Did not together plucke such enuie from him
¶As did that one, and that in my regard
¶Laer. What part is that my Lord?
¶King. A very ribaud in the cap of youth,
¶Importing health and grauenes; two months since
¶Heere was a gentleman of Normandy,
¶And they can well on horsebacke, but this gallant
¶Had witch-craft in't, he grew vnto his seate,
¶As had he beene incorp'st, and demy natur'd
¶That I in forgerie of shapes and tricks
¶Come short of what he did.
¶King. A Norman.
3090Laer. Vppon my life Lamord.
¶Laer. I know him well, he is the brooch indeed
¶And Iem of all the Nation.
¶For art and exercise in your defence,
¶That he cride out t'would be a sight indeed
¶If one could match you; the Scrimures of their nation
3099.1He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
3100Did Hamlet so enuenom with his enuy,
¶That he could nothing doe but wish and beg
¶Your sodaine comming ore to play with you.
¶Now out of this.
¶Laer. What out of this my Lord?
3105King. Laertes was your father deare to you?
¶Or are you like the painting of a sorrowe,
¶A face without a hart?
¶King. Not that I thinke you did not loue your father,
3110But that I knowe, loue is begunne by time,
¶Time qualifies the sparke and fire of it,
3112.1There liues within the very flame of loue
¶A kind of weeke or snufe that will abate it,
¶And nothing is at a like goodnes still,
¶For goodnes growing to a plurisie,
.5Dies in his owne too much, that we would doe
¶We should doe when we would: for this would changes,
¶And hath abatements and delayes as many,
¶As there are tongues, are hands, are accedents,
.10That hurts by easing; but to the quick of th'vlcer,
¶Hamlet comes back, what would you vndertake
3115More then in words?
¶Laer. To cut his thraot i'th Church.
¶Reuendge should haue no bounds: but good Laertes
¶Will you doe this, keepe close within your chamber,
3120Hamlet return'd, shall knowe you are come home,
¶The french man gaue you, bring you in fine together
3125Most generous, and free from all contriuing,
¶Requite him for your Father.
3130Laer. I will doo't,
¶I bought an vnction of a Mountibanck
¶So mortall, that but dippe a knife in it,
3135Collected from all simples that haue vertue
¶Vnder the Moone, can saue the thing from death
¶That is but scratcht withall, Ile tutch my point
¶With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, it may be death.
3140King. Lets further thinke of this.
¶Wey what conuenience both of time and meanes
¶And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
3145Should haue a back or second that might hold
¶Wee'le make a solemne wager on your cunnings,
¶I hate, when in your motion you are hote and dry,
¶As make your bouts more violent to that end,
3150And that he calls for drinke, Ile haue prefard him
¶A Challice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,
¶
Enter Queene.
3155Quee. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
¶Laer. Drown'd, ô where?
¶Of Crowflowers, Nettles, Daises, and long Purples
¶But our cull-cold maydes doe dead mens fingers call them.
¶There on the pendant boughes her cronet weedes
3165Clambring to hang, an enuious sliuer broke,
¶When downe her weedy trophies and her selfe
¶Fell in the weeping Brooke, her clothes spred wide,
¶And Marmaide like awhile they bore her vp,
¶Or like a creature natiue and indewed
¶Vnto that elament, but long it could not be
¶Till that her garments heauy with theyr drinke,
¶Puld the poore wretch from her melodious lay
3175To muddy death.
¶Quee. Drownd, drownd.
¶And therefore I forbid my teares; but yet
3180It is our tricke, nature her custome holds,
¶The woman will be out. Adiew my Lord,
¶But that this folly drownes it.
Exit.
3185King. Let's follow Gertrard,
¶How much I had to doe to calme his rage,
¶Now feare I this will giue it start againe,
¶Therefore lets follow.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter two Clownes.
¶defence.
¶poynt, if I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues an act, & an act hath
3200three branches, it is to act, to doe, to performe, or all; she drownd her
¶selfe wittingly.
¶Other. Nay, but heare you good man deluer.
3205man, good, if the man goe to this water & drowne himselfe, it is will
¶he, nill he, he goes, marke you that, but if the water come to him, &
¶drowne him, he drownes not himselfe, argall, he that is not guilty of
¶his owne death, shortens not his owne life.
3210Other. But is this law?
¶ent gentlemen but Gardners, Ditchers, and Grauemakers, they hold
¶Other. Was he a gentleman?
¶Other. Goe to.
¶Shypwright, or the Carpenter.
¶Clowne. I like thy wit well in good fayth, the gallowes dooes well,
3235but howe dooes it well? It dooes well to those that do ill, nowe thou
¶the gallowes may doo well to thee. Too't againe, come.
3240Carpenter.
¶Clowne. I, tell me that and vnyoke.
¶Other. Marry now I can tell.
¶Clowne. Too't.
¶Goe get thee in, and fetch mee a soope of liquer.
¶
In youth when I did loue did loue,Song.
¶To contract ô the time for a my behoue,3255_O me thought there a was nothing a meet.
¶
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
Ham. Has this fellowe no feeling of his busines? a sings in graue-
¶making.
¶Clow.
But age with his stealing steppesSong.¶_hath clawed me in his clutch,3265And hath shipped me into the land,
¶knaue iowles it to the ground, as if twere Caines iawbone, that did the
3270ore-reaches; one that would circumuent God, might it not?
¶Hora. It might my Lord.
¶Hor. I my Lord.
¶but to play at loggits with them: mine ake to thinke on't.
¶Clow.
A pickax and a spade a spade,Song.
¶_O a pit of Clay for to be made
3290where be his quiddities now, his quillites, his cases, his tenurs, and his
¶on of battery, hum, this fellowe might be in's time a great buyer of
¶chers, his recoueries, to haue his fine pate full of fine durt, will vou-
¶chers vouch him no more of his purchases & doubles then the length
3300and breadth of a payre of Indentures? The very conueyances of his
¶no more, ha.
¶Hora. Not a iot more my Lord.
3315doe not lie in't, yet it is mine.
¶not for the quicke, therefore thou lyest.
¶Ham. What woman then?
¶Clow. For none neither.
3325Ham. Who is to be buried in't?
¶equiuocation will vndoo vs. By the Lord Horatio, this three yeeres I
3330haue tooke note of it, the age is growne so picked, that the toe of the
¶long hast thou been Graue-maker?
¶Clow. Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that, it was that
¶very day that young Hamlet was borne: hee that is mad and sent into
¶England.
¶a doo not, tis no great matter there.
¶Ham. Why?
¶Ham. How came he mad?
3350Ham. Vpon what ground?
¶Clow. Why heere in Denmarke: I haue been Sexten heere man
¶and boy thirty yeeres.
¶Ham. How long will a man lie i'th earth ere he rot?
¶yeere, or nine yeere. A Tanner will last you nine yeere.
¶Ham. Why he more then another?
¶Ham. Nay I know not.
¶Kings Iester.
3370Ham. This?
¶Clow. Een that.
¶Ham. Alas poore Yoricke, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite
¶sand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is: my gorge
ble on a roare, not one
¶now to mocke your owne grinning, quite chopfalne. Now get you
3380to my Ladies table, & tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fa-
Prethee Horatio tell me one thing.
¶Hora. What's that my Lord?
¶a bunghole?
3395enough, and likelyhood to leade it. Alexander dyed, Alexander was
¶make Lome, & why of that Lome whereto he was conuerted, might
¶they not stoppe a Beare-barrell?
3400Imperious Cæsar dead, and turn'd to Clay,
¶Might stoppe a hole, to keepe the wind away.
¶O that that earth which kept the world in awe,
¶Should patch a wall t'expell the waters flaw.
¶The Queene, the Courtiers, who is this they follow?
Laertes and
the corse.
¶And with such maimed rites? this doth betoken,
¶Couch we a while and marke.
¶Laer. What Ceremonie els?
¶Ham. That is Laertes a very noble youth, marke.
¶Laer. What Ceremonie els?
¶As we haue warrantie, her death was doubtfull,
¶And but that great commaund ore-swayes the order,
¶Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,
3420Flints and peebles should be throwne on her:
¶Yet heere she is allow'd her virgin Crants,
¶Her mayden strewments, and the bringing home
¶Of bell and buriall.
3425Doct. No more be doone.
¶As to peace-parted soules.
¶Laer. Lay her i'th earth,
3430And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh
¶When thou lyest howling.
¶Ham. What, the faire Ophelia.
¶I thought thy bride-bed to haue deckt sweet maide,
¶And not haue strew'd thy graue.
¶Laer. O treble woe
3440Fall tenne times double on that cursed head,
¶Depriued thee of, hold off the earth a while,
¶Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes;
3445Now pile your dust vpon the quicke and dead,
¶Till of this flat a mountaine you haue made
¶Of blew Olympus.
¶Like wonder wounded hearers: this is I
¶Hamlet the Dane.
¶Yet haue I in me something dangerous,
¶Which let thy wisedome feare; hold off thy hand,
¶Quee. Hamlet, Hamlet.
3461.1All. Gentlemen.
¶Hora. Good my Lord be quiet.
¶Ham. Why, I will fight with him vpon this theame
¶Vntill my eye-lids will no longer wagge.
¶Could not with all theyr quantitie of loue
¶Make vp my summe. What wilt thou doo for her.
¶King. O he is mad Laertes.
3470Quee. For loue of God forbeare him.
¶Woo't drinke vp Esill, eate a Crocadile?
¶Ile doo't, doost come heere to whine?
3475To out-face me with leaping in her graue,
¶Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
¶And if thou prate of mountaines, let them throw
¶Millions of Acres on vs, till our ground
¶Sindging his pate against the burning Zone
¶Ile rant as well as thou.
¶And this a while the fit will worke on him,
¶Anon as patient as the female Doue
¶I lou'd you euer, but it is no matter,
3490Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may
¶The Cat will mew, and Dogge will haue his day.
Exit Hamlet
and Horatio.
¶King. I pray thee good Horatio waite vpon him.
¶This graue shall haue a liuing monument,
¶Tell then in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
¶You doe remember all the circumstance.
¶Hora. Remember it my Lord.
¶Ham. Sir in my hart there was a kind of fighting
¶That would not let me sleepe, my thought I lay
¶When our deepe plots doe fall, & that should learne vs
¶Ther's a diuinity that shapes our ends,
3510Rough hew them how we will.
¶Ham. Vp from my Cabin,
¶Gropt I to find out them, had my desire,
3515Fingard their packet, and in fine with-drew
¶To mine owne roome againe, making so bold
¶My feares forgetting manners to vnfold
¶A royall knauery, an exact command
¶Importing Denmarkes health, and Englands to,
¶With hoe such bugges and goblines in my life,
¶No not to stay the grinding of the Axe,
¶But wilt thou heare now how I did proceed.
3530Ham. Being thus benetted round with villaines,
¶Or I could make a prologue to my braines,
¶They had begunne the play, I sat me downe,
¶How to forget that learning, but sir now
¶It did me yemans seruice, wilt thou know
¶Th'effect of what I wrote?
¶Hora. I good my Lord.
¶As England was his faithfull tributary,
¶As loue betweene them like the palme might florish,
¶And stand a Comma tweene their amities,
¶That on the view, and knowing of these contents,
¶Not shriuing time alow'd.
¶Ham. Why euen in that was heauen ordinant,
¶Folded the writ vp in the forme of th'other,
¶The changling neuer knowne: now the next day
¶Was our Sea fight, and what to this was sequent
¶Thou knowest already.
¶Dooes by their owne insinnuation growe,
¶Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
3565Of mighty opposits.
¶Hora. Why what a King is this!
¶He that hath kild my King, and whor'd my mother,
¶Pop't in betweene th'election and my hopes,
3570Throwne out his Angle for my proper life,
¶
Enter a Courtier.
Doost know this water fly?
¶Hora. No my good Lord.
¶impart a thing to you from his Maiestie.
¶to his right vse, tis for the head.
3600Ham. No belieue me, tis very cold, the wind is Northerly.
¶Cour. It is indefferent cold my Lord indeed.
¶tion.
¶has layed a great wager on your head, sir this is the matter.
excellent differences, of very soft society, and great showing : in-
.5man would see.
¶know to deuide him inuentorially, would dazzie th'arithmaticke of
¶in the veritie of extolment, I take him to be a soule of great article,
¶of him, his semblable is his mirrour, & who els would trace him, his
¶vmbrage, nothing more.
.15our more rawer breath?
¶Cour. Sir.
¶doo't sir really.
¶Ham. What imports the nomination of this gentleman.
.20Cour. Of Laertes.
¶Cour. I know you are not ignorant.
.25much approoue me, well sir.
¶Cour. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is.
¶him in excellence, but to know a man wel, were to knowe himselfe.
¶him, by them in his meed, hee's vnfellowed.
¶Ham. What's his weapon?
¶Cour. Rapier and Dagger.
3615Ham. That's two of his weapons, but well.
¶of the carriages in faith, are very deare to fancy, very reponsiue to
3620the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberall conceit.
¶Ham. What call you the carriages?
done.
3625could carry a cannon by our sides, I would it be might hangers till
¶signes, and three liberall conceited carriages, that's the French
¶layd on twelue for nine, and it would come to immediate triall, if
¶is the breathing time of day with me, let the foiles be brought, the
3640Gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose; I will winne
¶for him and I can, if not, I will gaine nothing but my shame, and
¶the odde hits.
¶tongues els for's turne.
¶only got the tune of the time, and out of an habit of incounter, a
¶kind of histy colection, which carries them through and through
¶the most prophane and trennowed opinions, and doe but blowe
¶them to their triall, the bubbles are out.
3657.1
Enter a Lord.
¶Ostricke, who brings backe to him that you attend him in the hall,
.5you will take longer time?
¶uided I be so able as now.
¶Lord. The King, and Queene, and all are comming downe.
.10Ham. In happy time.
¶to Laertes, before you fall to play.
¶thinke how ill all's heere about my hart, but it is no matter.
¶Hora. Nay good my Lord.
3665would perhapes trouble a woman.
¶repaire hether, and say you are not fit.
¶the fall of a Sparrowe, if it be, tis not to come, if it be not to come,
3670it will be now, if it be not now, yet it well come, the readines is all,
3673.1let be.
¶
A table prepard, Trumpets, Drums and officers with Cushions,
¶King, Queene, and all the state, Foiles, daggers,
and Laertes.
¶King. Come Hamlet, come and take this hand from me.
¶But pardon't as you are a gentleman, this presence knowes,
¶That might your nature, honor, and exception
3685Wast Hamlet wronged Laertes? neuer Hamlet.
¶If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away,
¶And when hee's not himselfe, dooes wrong Laertes,
¶Then Hamlet dooes it not, Hamlet denies it,
3690Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged,
¶Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd euill,
¶And hurt my brother.
¶To my reuendge, but in my tearmes of honor
3700I stand a loofe, and will no reconcilement,
¶I haue a voyce and president of peace
¶To my name vngord: but all that time
¶I doe receaue your offerd loue, like loue,
3705And will not wrong it.
¶Ham. I embrace it freely, and will this brothers wager
¶franckly play.
¶Giue vs the foiles.
¶Laer. Come, one for me.
3710Ham. Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance
¶Stick fiery of indeed.
¶Ham. No by this hand.
¶You knowe the wager.
¶Ham. Very well my Lord.
¶Your grace has layed the ods a'th weeker side.
¶But since he is better, we haue therefore ods.
¶Ostr. I my good Lord.
¶Or quit in answere of the third exchange,
3730Let all the battlements their ordnance fire.
¶The King shall drinke to Hamlets better breath,
¶And in the cup an Onixe shall he throwe,
¶In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne: giue me the cups,
¶And let the kettle to the trumpet speake,
¶The trumpet to the Cannoneere without,
¶The Cannons to the heauens, the heauen to earth,
¶Now the King drinkes to Hamlet, come beginne.
Trumpets
the while.
3740And you the Iudges beare a wary eye.
¶Laer. Come my Lord.
¶Ham. One.
¶Laer. No.
3745Ham. Iudgement.
¶King. Stay, giue me drinke, Hamlet this pearle is thine.
3750Heeres to thy health: giue him the cup.
¶Come, another hit.
What say you?
¶Heere Hamlet take my napkin rub thy browes,
¶The Queene carowses to thy fortune Hamlet.
¶Ham. Good Madam.
3760King. Gertrard doe not drinke.
¶Quee. I will my Lord, I pray you pardon me.
¶Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam, by and by.
¶Quee. Come, let me wipe thy face.
¶Laer. My Lord, Ile hit him now.
¶King. I doe not think't.
3770Ham. Come for the third Laertes, you doe but dally.
¶I am sure you make a wanton of me.
3775Ostr. Nothing neither way.
¶Laer. Haue at you now.
¶Ham. Nay come againe.
3780Ostr. Looke to the Queene there howe.
3785I am iustly kild with mine owne treachery.
¶Ham. How dooes the Queene?
¶Quee. No, no, the drinke, the drinke, ô my deare Hamlet,
¶The drinke the drinke, I am poysned.
¶Ham. O villanie, how let the doore be lock't,
¶Treachery, seeke it out.
3795No medcin in the world can doe thee good,
¶In thee there is not halfe an houres life,
¶The treacherous instrument is in my hand
¶Vnbated and enuenom'd, the foule practise
¶Hath turn'd it selfe on me, loe heere I lie
¶I can no more, the King, the Kings too blame.
¶Ham. The point inuenom'd to, then venome to thy worke.
¶King. O yet defend me friends, I am but hurt.
¶Drinke of this potion, is the Onixe heere?
3810Follow my mother.
¶Mine and my fathers death come not vppon thee,
3815Nor thine on me.
¶Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee;
¶I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew.
¶You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance,
¶That are but mutes, or audience to this act,
3820Had I but time, as this fell sergeant Death
¶But let it be; Horatio I am dead,
3825Hora. Neuer belieue it;
¶I am more an anticke Romaine then a Dane,
¶Heere's yet some liquer left.
¶Ham. As th'art a man
Giue me the cup, let goe, by heauen Ile hate,
3830O god Horatio, what a wounded name
¶If thou did'st euer hold me in thy hart,
¶Absent thee from felicity a while,
¶And in this harsh world drawe thy breath in paine
A march a
farre off.
¶
Enter Osrick.
¶Ham. O I die Horatio,
¶I cannot liue to heare the newes from England,
¶But I doe prophecie th'ellection lights
¶Why dooes the drum come hether?
¶
Enter Fortenbrasse, with the Embassadors.
¶For. This quarry cries on hauock, ô prou'd death
¶What feast is toward in thine eternall cell,
¶And our affaires from England come too late,
¶To tell him his commandment is fulfild,
¶Where should we haue our thankes?
¶Hora. Not from his mouth
¶Had it th'ability of life to thanke you;
¶He neuer gaue commandement for their death;
¶You from the Pollack warres, and you from England
¶Are heere arriued, giue order that these bodies
¶High on a stage be placed to the view,
¶And let me speake, to yet vnknowing world
¶Of carnall, bloody and vnnaturall acts,
¶Of deaths put on by cunning, and for no cause
3880Falne on th'inuenters heads: all this can I
¶Truly deliuer.
¶And call the noblest to the audience,
¶For me, with sorrowe I embrace my fortune,
3885I haue some rights, of memory in this kingdome,
¶Which now to clame my vantage doth inuite me.
¶And from his mouth, whose voyce will drawe no more,
¶On plots and errores happen.
3895For. Let foure Captaines
¶For he was likely, had he beene put on,
¶Speake loudly for him:
Exeunt.
¶FINIS.
